I love relationships, partially because it means sex pretty much whenever, but because there SHOULD be a connection between you and someone else that no one else has. To me, there are three parts to a relationship: sexual, personal, and emotional. No, I don't consider personal and emotional the same thing.
Personal are things that are between just you and your partner. I don't care if it's as simple as a nickname, a memory, or an inside joke, if your partner doesn't reveal a part of themselves to you that no one else sees, there's a problem. in an open relationship, you may fuck two other girls, and I may fuck two other guys, but you're the only person I go on dates with, and call you "Babe" or whatever I may call you.
Emotional is the most important part to me. I've been in amazing open relationships. I don't care if, when I'm not around (because of distance, or I'm just too lazy to drive to see you) you have a side chick that I know about (as long as she's clean, obviously). I don't need to know who she is, or anything, but if you fuck with her, it's fine, just tell me. As long as it goes both ways. For the most part, if I'm with someone, I'm with them. Even in open relationships, I'm least likely to be fucking anyone but you, the option should still be there, though, same as you. What's really important is the emotional part. I should be the one you confide in, the one to get goodmorning texts, and what not. What makes a relationship special is the fact that you share a part of yourself with your partner that no one else sees.
Now to the sexual... needless to say, sexual is VERY important to me. I like sex. I like morning sex, pre-lunch sex, post-lunch sex, mid afternoon sex, pre-dinner sex, post-dinner sex, late evening sex, bedtime sex, and spontaneous middle of the night sex. What makes it different in an open relationship, for me, is that you can fuck your CLEAN sides if you want, but I'm the one who sleeps in your bed, and vice versa. I don't sleep over at fuck buddies house's, nor do I invite them the sleep over at mine. I usually don't really kiss fuck buddies, either.
So, what was my best relationship? An open relationship two years ago. Because he moved so far away, we both had someone we fucked, but we weren't "seeing other people". That's polygamy. He was the only person I called every night, and only person I texted all day. He was the only person to see my nudes, and vice versa. I may have fuck another guy once or twice a month, but he was the only person I made love with. When I fucked someone else, it was always just that. There was very little conversation, and it was usually arranged in advance. I'd text him, ask him if he wanted to come over and "watch a movie" and that was that. Afterwards, I'd get dressed, say I needed to go out for a cigarette, and once outside, ask him where he parked. Done.
What was amazing was when my now ex-boyfriend came to visit. We'd normally get a nice hotel room in the city for a night, and it was amazing. We'd have dinner in the city, take some back to the hotel, and from 7pm, to 12pm the next day, we'd just be having amazing, passionate, rough sex. He was as much of a freak as me, so we went all out. Rope, wax, handcuffs... everything. It was amazing.
I miss that. I miss that a lot.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Daily Filth
Today's porn blog of day is Fuck Me, I'm Wet. This is one of my personal favorites, I'm sure you'll enjoy it too.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Excuse My Lack of Vulgar Posts
I've been going through a lot in my personal life that has prevented me from having much fun lately. For those of you who are unaware, I am am horrendously bipolar, and have recently been diagnosed with Graves disease. I'm still getting used to living with both, so I've been kind of out of it. When I was first diagnosed bipolar (yes, I'm really bipolar, not WebMD, self diagnosed) I wasn't sure how to handle it. I had horrible episodes when i was going through a low, and started cutting, and throwing up everything I ate. It's been years, and I'm still recovering. As of earlier this month, I've been having horrible episodes that even good sex can't cure, and fallen into old habits and mindsets.
So, to make up for my absence, here is a new favorite porn blog for your viewing please: Black Girl, White Guy. If you're on Tumblr, definitely follow for your daily porn fix. I, personally, love men. I don't care if they're white, black, orange, polka dotted, or cross eyes, as long as they're cute, caring, and, of course, have a good dick. So, I love this blog. Definitely check it out [:
http://blackgirlwhiteguy.tumblr.com/
So, to make up for my absence, here is a new favorite porn blog for your viewing please: Black Girl, White Guy. If you're on Tumblr, definitely follow for your daily porn fix. I, personally, love men. I don't care if they're white, black, orange, polka dotted, or cross eyes, as long as they're cute, caring, and, of course, have a good dick. So, I love this blog. Definitely check it out [:
http://blackgirlwhiteguy.tumblr.com/
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Sexie Pics
I thought I'd add this for your viewing pleasure, since my last post was such a downer.
I'm a Tumblr addict. I breathe Tumblr. You have no idea. I especially love a certain blog which I follow, Sexie Pics. It's filled with lovely, hot photos that will make your toes curl whenever they pop onto your Dashboard.
You're welcome.
I'm a Tumblr addict. I breathe Tumblr. You have no idea. I especially love a certain blog which I follow, Sexie Pics. It's filled with lovely, hot photos that will make your toes curl whenever they pop onto your Dashboard.
You're welcome.
Immense Daddy Issues Kicking In
So, I just woke after getting home at 9am from the city. My feet hurt, my ankles hurts, my back hurt... The night went from fun, to eh'ish, to just ridiculous. It was the ultimate blow, I swear. Long story short, I somehow lost $20 while drunkenly talking to other drunks... meaning I probably was pick pocketed. We ended up missing bus after bus while trying to get back to a cheap motel, and by the time the bus was coming we were like "Fuck this shit. We're going home."
Now, this was with the full Italian (the lighter one, not the tan one... if it had been the tan Italian, I know it would have been worse because of his anger issues). What's funny is, despite having a good time drinking and smoking with him, my night was blown FAR before I found out I lost the money. My night was blow while sitting on the Piers, overlooking a beautiful skyline, and hearing him say "Out of all my bodies, you're definitely..." I barely heard the rest of the sentence, it blew mine that badly. I know the phrase "bodies" and I know it's used but sometimes I honestly wonder if he thinks before he speaks. Who the FUCK calls someone a "body" to their mother fucking face? I tried to tell myself to blame it on the alcohol, but that only makes it worse, because drinking really just takes away inhibitions, meaning that's what he's thinking, no matter what. After hear he said that shit, he noticed I was pretty much chugging my Jack Daniels and Coke and laughed. It all honesty it was because that term fucked with my head so badly that I need to drink to be able to function properly.
Like, I have a few fuck buddies, this everyone knows, but when you say it like that it just sound fucking dirty. It kind of made me feel gross. Like, God... I have no idea why it's STILL bothering me so fucking much. What's funny is, the drunken couple we were talking to later the that night were fighting. Of course this kid was going all Mister Macho on the guy, until I was kind of like "Go the fuck away, both of you, and let me talk to him." One of my problems is that I'm probably one of the most caring people in the world. Despite my "I don't give a fuck" attitude I show, I really do. I know he was a drunken therapy bill... but fuck so am I. So sitting with him in midtown while his girlfriend and the Italian go smoke, and hearing him cry about not having anybody... it made me cry too. His girlfriend was kind of a nutcase, abusive, and wildly controlling, but, no matter how many times she punched him, slapped him, or pulled his mustache until there was blood, he still loved her. Talking to him, hearing him say how much she means to him, despite the pain, and hear him scream to her "Why do you wanna hurt me?" reminds me so much of one my ex's it's almost scary. I like to think I was over that ex' but I guess you never get of them, huh?
When I was far too young to know better, and too proud to ask for help, I dated someone far too old for me. I mean, don't I always date someone far too old for me? But this was not only illegal, but dangerous. He seemed amazing, and too good to be true... which he was. Once he had the naive, love sick teenager that I was completely and totally hooked, he became a nutcase. I mean I'm a bit off center, but he was bonkers. It was like he was trying to break me. I know he was, actually. But he never could completely, at least not in my eyes. I remember him telling me that I wasn't ever good enough, that my biological parents didn't want me (I'm adopted) and that no one else ever would, because I was a fuck up. I remember ALMOST believing him too... but I had an amazing friend who never would let me. We actually someone live together right now, and he's so protective of me because of that. I think the worse was when he came home (to his house, we were younger) to find me on his porch, a nice welt on my face, and more on my back to match it. Of course, he was furious. I was like his little sister. But what I remember was being curled up, with him screaming at me, and just sobbing. He was yelling at me "God, why are you so stupid? Why the fuck would you let him do this? Are you fucking serious?" and all I could think was "He's right. I am stupid. Stupid as fuck, because I still love him. Why the fuck does he want to hurt me? What's wrong with me..." It was the absolute lowest place I've ever been because I bought into my ex's bullshit. And, after a lot of counseling, I'd like to say that I've overcome that. But, obviously not because all I can hear in my head is my ex's voice saying "You're a stupid whore, that nobody but me will ever love. You'll never be enough for anyone, no one else would put up with you, not for long. You're parents didn't even want you."
And what pissed off most was the fact that at the end of the day, while riding the bus home, and thinking about his "bodies" comment it made me cry a little on the bus (but I don't like looking weak in public so I sucked it up). Now, I thought that it was maybe because I was still drunk. Obviously it wasn't, because 7 hours later, and mostly sober, I woke up, and it still bothers me. And it bothers me that, after that horrendous night, I still wanted to fuck. Like, God, I feel every bit of the useless, piece of shit my ex called me. Which, of course, makes me pissed at myself even further. I'm grown, that shouldn't still bother me, correct? Or at least I shouldn't let it show.
My mother always told me that there would be a point where it wasn't the sex you were worried about, the emotions the next day. So why do I feel like I'm getting those emotions... 5 hours late?
Now, this was with the full Italian (the lighter one, not the tan one... if it had been the tan Italian, I know it would have been worse because of his anger issues). What's funny is, despite having a good time drinking and smoking with him, my night was blown FAR before I found out I lost the money. My night was blow while sitting on the Piers, overlooking a beautiful skyline, and hearing him say "Out of all my bodies, you're definitely..." I barely heard the rest of the sentence, it blew mine that badly. I know the phrase "bodies" and I know it's used but sometimes I honestly wonder if he thinks before he speaks. Who the FUCK calls someone a "body" to their mother fucking face? I tried to tell myself to blame it on the alcohol, but that only makes it worse, because drinking really just takes away inhibitions, meaning that's what he's thinking, no matter what. After hear he said that shit, he noticed I was pretty much chugging my Jack Daniels and Coke and laughed. It all honesty it was because that term fucked with my head so badly that I need to drink to be able to function properly.
Like, I have a few fuck buddies, this everyone knows, but when you say it like that it just sound fucking dirty. It kind of made me feel gross. Like, God... I have no idea why it's STILL bothering me so fucking much. What's funny is, the drunken couple we were talking to later the that night were fighting. Of course this kid was going all Mister Macho on the guy, until I was kind of like "Go the fuck away, both of you, and let me talk to him." One of my problems is that I'm probably one of the most caring people in the world. Despite my "I don't give a fuck" attitude I show, I really do. I know he was a drunken therapy bill... but fuck so am I. So sitting with him in midtown while his girlfriend and the Italian go smoke, and hearing him cry about not having anybody... it made me cry too. His girlfriend was kind of a nutcase, abusive, and wildly controlling, but, no matter how many times she punched him, slapped him, or pulled his mustache until there was blood, he still loved her. Talking to him, hearing him say how much she means to him, despite the pain, and hear him scream to her "Why do you wanna hurt me?" reminds me so much of one my ex's it's almost scary. I like to think I was over that ex' but I guess you never get of them, huh?
When I was far too young to know better, and too proud to ask for help, I dated someone far too old for me. I mean, don't I always date someone far too old for me? But this was not only illegal, but dangerous. He seemed amazing, and too good to be true... which he was. Once he had the naive, love sick teenager that I was completely and totally hooked, he became a nutcase. I mean I'm a bit off center, but he was bonkers. It was like he was trying to break me. I know he was, actually. But he never could completely, at least not in my eyes. I remember him telling me that I wasn't ever good enough, that my biological parents didn't want me (I'm adopted) and that no one else ever would, because I was a fuck up. I remember ALMOST believing him too... but I had an amazing friend who never would let me. We actually someone live together right now, and he's so protective of me because of that. I think the worse was when he came home (to his house, we were younger) to find me on his porch, a nice welt on my face, and more on my back to match it. Of course, he was furious. I was like his little sister. But what I remember was being curled up, with him screaming at me, and just sobbing. He was yelling at me "God, why are you so stupid? Why the fuck would you let him do this? Are you fucking serious?" and all I could think was "He's right. I am stupid. Stupid as fuck, because I still love him. Why the fuck does he want to hurt me? What's wrong with me..." It was the absolute lowest place I've ever been because I bought into my ex's bullshit. And, after a lot of counseling, I'd like to say that I've overcome that. But, obviously not because all I can hear in my head is my ex's voice saying "You're a stupid whore, that nobody but me will ever love. You'll never be enough for anyone, no one else would put up with you, not for long. You're parents didn't even want you."
And what pissed off most was the fact that at the end of the day, while riding the bus home, and thinking about his "bodies" comment it made me cry a little on the bus (but I don't like looking weak in public so I sucked it up). Now, I thought that it was maybe because I was still drunk. Obviously it wasn't, because 7 hours later, and mostly sober, I woke up, and it still bothers me. And it bothers me that, after that horrendous night, I still wanted to fuck. Like, God, I feel every bit of the useless, piece of shit my ex called me. Which, of course, makes me pissed at myself even further. I'm grown, that shouldn't still bother me, correct? Or at least I shouldn't let it show.
My mother always told me that there would be a point where it wasn't the sex you were worried about, the emotions the next day. So why do I feel like I'm getting those emotions... 5 hours late?
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